How to be a 20-Something
Spawned from the New York Times' article on the trend in non-commital "emerging adults" - this collection of essays is a response from various 20-somethings at Thought Catalog, supposedly a reflection on youthful life...blogging on such complications, I thought I better take a look...
There’s a fear when you read something about you. O.K not me, exactly, firstly I've not graduated yet, or American, as these essayists mostly are. But I am a 20-something. Monumental heart pounding ensues when clicking through the Kindle-for-PC (yes I am that poor I can't afford a kindle) pages of something that is supposed to be 'ME'.
Trepidation continues as reading the blurb of the egotistical self-accounts of one-night-standees, druggies, lonesome binge drinkers and vague relationships…how patronising. Some (unbelievably minuscule) dignity within me turns its nose up…while the majority of my brain rambunctiously bawls in belly laughter, wiping a tear from an eye thinking: ‘Oh fuck it’s so true, it’s so true’, then blaming it all on my age. Like apologetic parents with a one-year-old that just threw up on everything. It’s O.K, I’m only a 20-something; I’m allowed to throw up on everything.
From the hilarious drug cock up, The 3 Times I Took Ambien, ending in an affectionate email to her boss - who hasn't berated themselves while under the influence with: did I just write LOVE on the end of that professional email, yes, yes I did, what’s WRONG with me?! To an A & E incident in Funny Drug Story ...you should be contemplating your own funny drug story, right now...aren't you? Your own self induced A&E stories? It’s O.K, I’m smiling to myself thinking of several right now.
Followed by years whittled away watching absolute crap, monotonous shit you know is rotting your expensively educated brain, accompanied with a bottle of wine that is definitely not to share: How To Drink At Home By Yourself - important instructions on lonesome drinking while you mindlessly indulge in TV, dusty academic books weeping in the background at your infidelity. 'I never do this' my false dignity replies.
Of course the spiral puzzle of romantic (or incredibly unromantic) relationships can't go unmentioned in these essays. How To Have Sex With Me One Time – exploring why it's best to offer sexual partners nothing more, than the simple body warmth we all crave in our beloved 20's. Probably my favourite is How To Have A Vague Relationship – avoid labels and cautiously cuddle. Obviously. Self righteous essay. Dabbling in our apparent inability to commit to doctor's appointments, let alone relationships in our 20's. My small amount of dignity argues patronising intent again, while the other half of me laughs uncontrollably as I move on to Notes on Dating a Crazy Girl …after reading this essay, dating a crazy girl is now somehow an aspiration of mine... it’s just written so comically.
I hate to admit it, but the essays really do read wonderfully like a ‘how to’ book of life, as the lead title suggests. I do like it when expectations match reality.
For those 20-somethings not even mastering a vague relationship and one night stands there is: A Checklist for Single People, ‘sleep diagonal cause you can’ – I thought I was the ONLY person in the world who slept diagonally...cause I can...yay?
Followed by a more general list: A Checklist for Your Mid-20s, I felt so warm and fuzzy to see the phrases ‘first world guilt’ and ‘fuck I blacked out last night’ are part of said list.
In between reading bursts, guilt clutches my body in an ice grip. A massive ghost fist groping me and forcing my eyes back to being “productive” – writing applications for jobs I don’t want…my eyeball slides down my face out of the ice-ghost grip, skimming: I am Extremely Talented and Important. Dam right I am, the essay reminds me: I shouldn't even be writing these applications, they should be writing to me, begging for my youthful blood. One day they’ll realise I’m a genius…right?
No because You’ll Never Get Your Shit Together. Glad we got that sorted; it was weighing my chest down something awful. We all knew it, but it’s good to have it in writing, on a convenient PC Kindle. Yes I am still that poor.
What 20-Somethings Want – surely we all want different things? As complex individuals sprayed over a decade? ‘someone to pick you up from the airport’...Finding myself at many lonesome airports recently – again, my brain rattles through suffocating emotion. Stop crying you twat. ‘But it’s so true, so bloody true, that is all I want’ my brain sniffles. The essays KNOW somehow. You fool, go back to writing job applications.
After, I did what anyone my age would do. I shared it on Twitter and Facebook of course. As covered in Meet Me Offline, please DO meet me offline, I nodded to the screen…logging back into Facebook to tell anyone online that will just LISTEN…about this magnificent literature I have found, which talks like a gorgeous horse whisperer to my soul. Or at least laments some relatable situations in a humorous and engaging fashion.
These resonating essays fulfilled every crevice of the void they were supposed to fill. Reminding me I don’t have to know what I’m doing with my life, just as long as I’m living it. A comforting reminder that I am not crazy, not a binge drinker, a slacker, a fail, a slut or a druggie – I’m just a 20-something, and there is an abundant many more like me; writing amusing essays to support all these age defined likenesses. I may never finish these job applications or own a kindle, but it's all O.K - there's this written concensus, I'm not supposed to anytime soon.
The essays end, on the poignant revolver which starts the sprint through 20-something life: you’re only going to end up another wrinkle eyed 30-year-old, bedraggled and cursing: ‘Oh shit, I’m no longer a 20–Something.’
